Masquerade
by Kit15
Summary: Songfic. Using Evanescence's "Hello", this fic delves into the mind of Pilot 02, and tries to show what experiences has shaped him to be the man he is.


This just came to me one night as I was listening to Evanescence's CD (really good, it's definitely worth buying if you like "Bring Me To Life"…each song on the CD only seems to get better than the one before it).  "Hello" is such a beautiful and moving song with a haunting tune and lyrics.  I couldn't help but think of Duo when listening; it's so tragically beautiful (just like him ^__^).  There's major Duo angst in here, and though I'm sure it's been done before, I felt compelled to write this.  Well, I hope you enjoy it!  Read, review and enjoy, as always!

PS – Oh yeah, this is basically a spoiler for Duo's entire Episode Zero.  Just warning you cause I literally take the translated dialogue and use parts of it in here…eheh…yeah.  Well, have fun!  

PPS – One more thing!  Um, sorry if this offends any Christians, but you're gonna have to expect some blasphemous discussion of the Church and Christ when dealing with Duo…he's not much of a believer apparently.  Sorry again…

Disclaimer: No, I do not own the rights to Gundam Wing…oh well.  

**Masquerade**

            A small child ran through the dilapidated streets of the L2 colony.  His mind was focused on the task he had to complete in order to ensure the safety of Maxwell Church and all who resided in it.  Sneak past the security guards of the mobile suit factory nearby.  Steal a mobile suit.  Maneuver it back to the church.  Hand it over to the angry colonists taking refuge there and they would leave him and the church in peace.  When stated like that, the task seemed easy enough, but Duo was no fool.  He realized that he was risking his life here.  A mere street rat was going up against many trained, professional soldiers.  Even if he did get past them, how was he to be sure that he would be able to bring the mobile suit back to the church?  What if he couldn't figure out the controls?

            Duo shook his head furiously, the heavy weight of his braid slapping against his back.  No, he couldn't think negatively like that, he would just have to figure out how the suit worked once he got in it.  And he intended not to fail.  

            He was a screw up at too many things in life.  Memories flooded his mind of the times he disappointed Sister Helen and Father Maxwell over and over again.  When he stole from the army or other people the Father and Sister always chided him, telling him that it was unnecessary and a deliberate sin.  Duo had tried to be good, but everyone knows old habits die hard.  Then there was always the outstanding issue about his fights.  Duo wasn't one to back down from a fight, nor was he one to quietly take any teasing or threats.  On the street he had to fight for his life and pride many times, so when his environment changed drastically, he couldn't seem to adapt to it immediately.  The other kids always picked on him, telling him he smelled dirty and that he wasn't as smart as them.  They were wrong, dead wrong and Duo never hesitated to fight anyone who thought otherwise.  Survival of the fittest, right?  That's what Duo had been trying to prove, but each of his little quarrels only seemed to disappoint Sister Helen and Father Maxwell even more, and that's what hurt the most.  Not the bruises, or the scolding from the school teacher, he didn't care about that.  It was the dismayed look on the face of Father Maxwell and the frown that Sister Helen always wore after news of one of Duo's brawls.  

            Duo frowned as he continued to run harder through the streets.  He was a failure at so many things.  Ironically, the one thing he always succeeded at (disappointing Sister Helen and Father Maxwell) was the one thing he wished he could fail at.  Well, he wouldn't fail them this time!  Duo would return triumphantly to the small church with a mobile suit and everyone would be safe.  With a renewed sense of hope and determination, Duo steeled himself for the battle of his life when he saw the mobile suit factory come into view.  

            Grinning like a madman, the young daredevil scaled the small stone wall and landed on his feet with little difficulty.   Not stopping to catch his breath, Duo raced forward, ignoring the angry shouts of the soldiers as they were alerted to his presence.  Bullet shots started to ring out in the enclosed area and the young boy winced as he heard bullets whiz past his head.  He could sense more men gathering around him, shamelessly unloading the magazines of their guns in his direction.  By some miracle, Duo was unharmed as his wide violet eyes frantically scanned the area for the mobile suit hanger.  There were so many options inside the factory that Duo was completely lost at where to start looking.  Not allowing panic to set in, even with the many gunshots being aimed in his direction, he continued to scour the area.  Suddenly, his roaming eyes landed on a truck that had a large object tied to its bed.  It was obviously a mobile suit, so with a new burst of energy, Duo sprinted the last few yards to his target.  Miraculously dodging bullet after bullet, Duo reached the truck and hopped in the unmanned vehicle.  Now with something protecting him from the bullets, Duo worried more about how to actually drive.  Luckily finding the keys still in the ignition, he started it up and barreled out of the factory, driving haphazardly and destroying any part of the factory that was in his way.  Managing to make it out of the factory alive and with a mobile suit, Duo grinned to himself.  Luck must've been on his side today.  No, not luck, Shinigami.  

            The braided child bulldozed through the run down streets of L2, leaving a warpath in his wake.  As he flew around a bend, Duo nearly toppled over in the process due to his lack of knowledge of how to handle a truck, or any automobile for that matter.  Duo managed to regain control of the monstrous truck just in time for Maxwell Church to come into his line of vision.  Or what was left of it anyway.  Braking as hard and as fast as he could, the young boy was nearly thrown through the windshield from his braking job, but his own safety was furthest away from his mind at that point.  He grabbed the keys from the ignition and leapt out of the truck, running towards the horrific sight that met him.  

            Maxwell Church had been leveled, completely flattened to the ground with nothing left to prove that a house of worship had ever been there.  Pillars of black smoke rose into the air and dying flames still burned under some of the rubble.  His nostrils flared at the pungent scent of burning flesh and wood in the air.  His throat was tight from fear and dry, burning sensation the smoke and heat emitted.  Picking his way through the destruction, Duo's desperately searched out any familiar face.  

            "It…can't be…" Duo murmured with a heavy heart and closed his eyes.  

            "Du… Duo…" came a soft whisper from his left and indigo eyes snapped open, searching for the source of the voice.  What he found broke his heart even more.  Sister Helen was sprawled out on the hard ground, her skin darkened by ash and dirt in some places, other parts were covered in red as her life drained out of her.  Duo sank to his knees beside her and took one of her charred hands with his small ones.  Sadness overwhelmed him as he saw that she didn't even have the strength to grimace or pull her hand back.

            "Sister!" He cried.

            "Don't worry us like that…Father was thinking of you till his last moment…" she rasped.

            No! screamed Duo's mind as he tried to ignore the horrible truth.  Father Maxwell was dead and Sister Helen would soon follow.  "I-I'll call a doctor right away!" He tried to say but even he was able to realize how ridiculous that sounded.  

            "The Federation Army has come…We can't…leave here…" Sister trailed off.

            "Is-Is it my fault?  Because I stole a mobile suit from the Federation?!" Duo shouted angrily, suddenly becoming away of his foolish actions.  How stupid could he have been!?  Why did he leave them all alone here!?  And for what!?  To steal a mobile suit!?  To practically lay out the intentions of the colonists and lead the Federation Army directly to the church!?  Everyone in the colony knew Maxwell Church fostered wounded colonists!  Of course the army would realize what his actions were for!  They may be bastards, but they weren't fools!  He was the fool!  

            Duo clenched his eyes shut to stop the hot tears that threatened to pour down his face.  He would not cry.  He would not cry!

            "The Father was…a wonderful example…He preached peace to…everyone…till the end…" Sister Helen continued, using every ounce of energy left in her.  

            Duo's self-control burst as he heard these words.  He preached?!  He preached the peace of a false God to those insolent colonists!?  There was only one God!  The God of Death!  Shinigami!  And it seems Duo had brought Him here, to Maxwell Church.  "What do you mean wonderful?!" Duo's harsh voice cried out.  "He was just stupid, wasn't he?!  What did he accomplish by getting himself killed?!" 

            A small smile graced Helen's lips as she tenderly reached a hand out to cradle Duo's small face.  "Duo…May God…bless you and…keep you…"  Her hand dropped to the ground and the smile dissolved from her face.  

            Duo could only watch in horror as realization struck him like a ton of bricks.  Sister Helen…she was…dead.  An agonizing scream cut through the smoke filled air on that God-forsaken evening, "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!"  

_Playground school bell rings again_

_Rain clouds come to play again_

_Has no one told you she's not breathing?_

_Hello I'm your mind giving you_

_Someone to talk to_

_Hello_

            Seven years later found Duo Maxwell at the ripe age of 15 and the pilot of Gundam Deathscythe.  At the moment, he sat on his bed in the recent safehouse, fingering the silver cross hanging around his neck.  Sometimes the other pilots would question why he wore the symbol when it was obvious he did not follow the Christian religion.  Duo felt he didn't need to explain himself.  This was a secret of his past that he'd keep until his grave.  It wasn't that he didn't trust his comrades, it was just that he didn't want any sympathy from any of them if they ever learned of his tragic history.  Pity was something he dealt poorly with and he knew he'd be receiving a lot of it from a certain blonde haired pilot if Duo ever did reveal his past.  The Maxwell Church Tragedy (as it had come to be known as) was his cross to bear, figuratively and literally, as was displayed by the crucifix he wore daily.  

            Duo allowed his mind to take a trip down memory lane as he remembered what happened that day.  After witnessing Sister Helen literally die in his arms, the young boy had been determined not to leave there without something to remind him of the kindness Sister and Father had shown him during that short period of time.  He had nearly ransacked the church's debris, finally satisfied when he had found the silver pendant lying untouched in the area of the church that at one time had been known as Father Maxwell's study.  Somehow, the silver cross had escaped the battle unscathed and nearly as shiny as the day it was bought.  Duo had found it lying underneath the broken figurine of Mary, glinting from the reflection of the small fires around him.  Snatching the pristine pendant from the rubble, Duo had fled Maxwell Church, never to return again.  Later, he had found a leather string to put it on so he could wear it around his neck, as opposed to keeping it in his pants pocket.  Amazingly, the original leather string was still what was holding the cross around his neck to this day.  

            Coming out of his reverie, Duo muttered to an empty room, "This cross doesn't represent Christ's sacrifice, not for me.  For me, it is a symbol of death because it was the crucifix that ultimately killed Christ.  The cross is an instrument of death, forged by the God of Death's hands, Shinigami's hands.  The cross represents me.  I am the God of Death…Shinigami."  Shaking a bit, he let go of the silver cross, it was tarnished now because of Duo's constant fiddling with it and its daily wear.  It was tarnished because of all of Duo's sins.  

            Sighing, Duo dragged himself off of the bed and over to the full length mirror on the bathroom door.  He ran a hand through his ragged bangs and stared spitefully at his reflection.  Sneering at himself he growled, "Pull yourself together Maxwell.  No more of this self-pitying, self-deprecating shit.  You're a Gundam pilot.  You're fighting to make amends, never forget that!" 

            "Duo!" Came a shout from the hall that interrupted his vicious tirade, "Come down for dinner!"  

            Duo recognized the voice as Quatre's and took a deep breath before saying, "I'm on my way!"  His voice had automatically perked up when talking to the other pilot, his self-defenses immediately falling back into place.  Turning back to the mirror he scowled at himself once again.  Then his familiar, brilliant smile appeared and he said through slightly clenched teeth, "Remember, this is all they see."  He walked out the door and bounded down the hallway in typical Duo fashion, ready to put on his usual show at the dinner table.  

_If I smile and don't believe_

_Soon I know I'll wake from this dream_

_Don't try to fix me I'm not broken_

_Hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide_

_Don't cry_

            A tormented cry broke through the night air and wide indigo eyes shot open to stare at the ceiling.  Quick, shallow breaths were the only noise that came from the Deathscythe pilot as he attempted to calm his nerves.  He gripped his bed sheets firmly as he thought about the nightmarish hell he had just been though.  Why were these nightmares so frequent all of a sudden?  Night after night he was tortured with a vivid depiction of the Maxwell Church Tragedy.  He had been able to visual everything from soot particles that drifted through the air, making it difficult to breath, to the light of life leaving Sister Helen's pale blue eyes.  Everything was just as sharp in the dreams as it had been to him seven years ago…and it killed him a little more inside every time his mind forced him to witness it again.

            With a deep, shuddering breath Duo swung his legs over the edge of the bed and staggered to the bathroom in the pitch black of the room.  The braided pilot closed the door behind him and gripped the edge of the sink countertop, leaning into stare at his frightened appearance in the mirror.  His braid was unraveling; his skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat; his eyes were bloodshot.  Duo tore his gaze away and looked down at his hands, studying the way his knuckles turned white from the pressure of his grip.  Blinking slowly, he reluctantly brought his eyes up back to his reflection.  

            "Pathetic," he hissed.  "Damn you Shinigami…I can never escape you, can I?"   There was a sardonic chuckle from the boy, "No, of course not.  Afterall, I am Shinigami."

            It was just so hard sometimes.  He didn't want to be plagued with nightmares of his mistakes.  Sure, he believed he deserved it, but that didn't mean he had to like it.  The real world was cold, cruel and unforgiving and he had learned that the hard way.  Duo had long ago come to accept the misconception that the attack on the church was all his fault.  Thanks to his blunder, grabbing the attention of the Federation Army, Duo was doomed to be the only survivor of the tragedy, and thus carry the weight off killing over 200 people.  He shouldered heavy burden with a morbid determination.  It was his job to exact revenge on the sinners that had massacred Father Maxwell, Sister Helen and all the unfortunate war orphans.  Despite how much he imagined Father Maxwell and Sister Helen would protest, he was the only one left to carry out the dirty work.  Even back then, in the orphanage, he had always been the one to do the dirty work.  

            With a snort, Duo realized that it was with that very mindset that he had made the devastating mistake of stealing the mobile suit and leading a trail to the Maxwell Church.  It was because he was always willing to do the dirty work when no one else was that 245 lives were sacrificed.  It was all because of him!  Duo gritted his teeth and willed away the tears the stung the corners of his eyes.  There was no fucking way he was going to cry now.  Crying never amounted to anything anyway.  With a violent shake of his head, Duo spared one last, dismal glance at his pathetic self-image, before stalking out of the bathroom.

            Duo was startled, to say the least, to find Heero Yuy standing on the other side of the door, almost as if he had been waiting for Duo.  Blinking in the darkness, Duo tried to understand what he was doing there.

            "Duo…" Heero said, trailing off at the end to almost a whisper.  "Are you…?"  Heero didn't know what to say.

            Suddenly, Duo's expression turned sour as his lips curled in disgust and his beautiful eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.  He'd recognize that tone of voice anywhere, and though he had to admit, it was a little harder to recognize in his ever-emotionless partner, it was still unmistakable.  There had been a reserved tone of pity when Heero had spoken.  Duo didn't want anyone's pity.  He sure as hell didn't want pity from Mr. Perfect himself, Heero Yuy.  That was just unacceptable for so many reasons.  So, glaring for all he was worth, Duo hissed, "Yuy, fuck off."  Then he brushed past the cold teen, bumping his shoulder as he did and tossed himself back on the bed, waiting for his ever fitful slumber to return.  He'd be damned before he ever accepted pity from anyone.  His last thoughts were before he fell asleep were that he already was damned, he wasn't the God of Death for nothing.  With that, a small tear escaped the corner of his eye just before he drifted off. 

_Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping_

_Hello I'm still here_

_All that's left of yesterday_


End file.
